


Death Day Celebrations

by lunar_mischief



Category: Supernatural
Genre: all the pie, these guys really die a lot, they should really stop that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:37:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3234818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunar_mischief/pseuds/lunar_mischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most people celebrate the day they were born. The Winchesters celebrate the days they didn't die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

In a job like hunting, you could go down at any given moment. Because of this, hunters celebrated life. Each birthday was a big deal because, hey, they didn’t kick the bucket just yet, and wasn’t that an accomplishment. Every birthday was cause for a celebration.

Except for the Winchesters.

You see, the Winchesters had this penchant for getting themselves killed. There was the time Dean was killed by Lucifer. And the time Sam was stabbed by Jake, and then later by Anna. The time they were both shot, the time they both temporarily killed themselves to save Tessa, the time Dean was brutally mauled by Hellhounds, the time Sam was electrocuted, the hundred three times Gabriel killed Dean… the list went on and on, really. So, rather than celebrate the day they were born, the Winchester brothers chose to celebrate the times they had beaten Death (or rather, the many times the Horseman had let them go).

And so it was on a gloomy Sunday that Dean found himself futilely scouting the paper for any hits when Sam walked into the motel room, a paper bag with dinner in one hand, a white box in the other. Dean, instantly aware of the familiar aroma, looked up at his brother with hope in his eyes.

“Is that pie?” he asked, stretching in his chair before getting up to inspect the package in his brother’s hand.

“You know, normally I’d make you eat dinner first, but...” Sam smiled, handing the baked good to his brother. “Happy Time-Dick-Got-You-Killed,” Sam smiled.

“Aw, you remembered,” Dean smiled. “Thanks!” He ripped the box open and shoveled a forkful into his mouth, moaning at the taste. “And it’s fresh. Have I ever told you how awesome you are?”

“You could mention it a few times more,” Sam grinned. “Where’s Cas?”

“Right here,” the angel said, appearing behind them. The brothers barely controlled their urge to flinch at the sudden appearance of their friend.

“How do you still do that? You don’t have your powers, but you’re still like a ninja!” Dean said, calming his heart with another bite of pie.

“Here, Cas,” Sam said, pulling out a small box from the bag. “Happy Death Day.”

Castiel stared quizzically at the younger Winchester for a moment, trying to figure out if he was serious or pulling his leg. It wasn’t until Sam raised his eyebrows questioningly that the angel realized he was serious.

“…What?”

“Happy Death Day,” Sam tried again, slower this time.

“Uh…thank you?” Castiel hesitantly reached out and took the box and opened it. He blinked at the large cupcake inside. “I thought it was customary to celebrate the day of one’s birth?”

“It is, but since when do we do anything the normal way?” Dean pointed out, mouth full of food.

Castiel frowned at his pastry. “This is… a little morbid.”

“Hey, we beat death! You ask me, that’s something worth celebrating.”

“But shouldn’t we celebrate the day we got out of Purgatory, then?”

“No,” Sam said before Dean could pose the question. “We are not celebrating both days. You already get enough celebrations in a year as it is, not including the Mystery Spot anniversary.”

Dean smiled fondly. “Oh Mystery Spot anniversary, how I love you.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “That’s because you don’t remember it,” he grumbled under his breath.

“Say, were we actually dead when Dick screwed us over?”

“You were in Purgatory, Dean. That’s where all the monsters we kill go.”

“I dunno, Sam; they looked pretty alive to me,” Dean countered. “What do you think, Cas? …Cas?” The angel continued to stare unhappily at his cupcake. “Come on, Cas; it’s tradition!”

“You got me a cupcake,” Castiel finally said after a moment, looking up at Sam.

“Yeah. It’s a celebration. You eat cake on Death Day.”

“Dean is eating pie,” Castiel countered.

Sam shrugged. “Dean prefers pie.”

Cas stared at Dean’s pie for a long moment. “I want pie,” he said at last.

“No can do; bakery closed fifteen minutes ago.”

“I want pie,” Castiel repeated, facing Sam.

Sam glared at his brother. “You’re a terrible influence.” He snatched the Impala’s keys off the table. “Anything else, while I go commit a felony to get you a pie?”

“I hear ice cream goes well with it.”

“Look what you’ve created,” Sam scowled at Dean, who smiled innocently back. “If I’m not back in thirty assume I’ve been arrested,” he grunted, shutting the door behind him.

Cas turned to face Dean. “I like Death Day.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean Winchester loved to pick on his little brother.

Just look at the guy. Long hair, super tall, a bookworm, a health nut… The guy was practically asking for it.  Besides, it was an older brother’s duty to screw with the younger one.

So Sam relished those few days Dean couldn’t mess with him: his Death Days. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), Sam had not died nearly as many times as Dean, resulting in fewer days of peace and quiet. See, whereas Dean loved to drink a little, sleep with a nameless girl, and party on his Death Days, Sam preferred a quieter day. He loved to stay in the bunker and just work his way through the library one book at a time. He liked to watch an old movie with his big bro. But most of all, he loved to eat a salad without being mocked.

Despite Dean’s claim of only being able to cook meat, he always made whatever Sam wanted on his Death Day, rabbit food or not. And it was always delicious, and sometimes even better than those greasy diners they frequented when they were on the road. And on the anniversary of being stabbed by Anna, Dean really outdid himself. A spinach salad with fresh strawberries, goat cheese, and a touch of fresh mint. And it was even organic.

Sam would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about nearly killing himself to get more meals like this, but something always held him back, besides the idea of karma.  He always felt a little guilty on his Death Days. Dean was always crushed by the remembrance of Sam’s deaths, like it was his own personal failing Sam had died. And as much as the hunter tried to convince his older brother that it wasn’t his fault, that Death just had a thing for him, he could tell it still bothered him.

So when Dean set the plate down in front of him, visibly resisting the quip about his meal, Sam plastered on the biggest smile he could manage. “Thanks, Dean. This is great.”

“If you insist,” Dean said, looking down at his own plate unsurely, hoping it was edible.

“It’s not that bad. Besides, you need to eat healthy every now and again; six days a year isn’t asking a lot.”

Dean opened his mouth to refute, but closed it, remembering the day. “Tomorrow we’re having burgers,” he said instead.

“Happy Death Day, Sam.”

“Jesus Christ, Cas,” Dean said, choking on his poor excuse for food.

“Apologies. Dean informed me it was customary to give a gift on Death Days.” Castiel thrust out a large bag stuffed with tissue paper, which rustled with every movement.

“How did we not hear that?” Dean demanded.

“Thanks, Cas. You didn’t have to do that.” Sam unwrapped the gift, staring at it for a moment.

“It’s a laptop lap desk,” the former angel explained. “The sales associate assured me that the cushion was both soft and firm. She even wrote her number on the receipt in case I had any questions.”

“Uh…”

“Way to go, Cas!” Dean smiled, clapping his friend on the back. “Never knew you had it in you.”

“Had what in me?”

“The girl gave you her number! She was coming onto you.”

Castiel blinked. “She was?”

Dean waggled his eyebrows. “She bend over a little too far? Maybe wink at you?”

“Wink at me?” Cas asked, tilting his head.

“Yeah, like, this.” Dean demonstrated. “It’s a flirty thing.”

Castiel blushed, shifting uncomfortably. “Perhaps I should not have winked back.”

“Wait; hold up. You _winked_ at her?” Dean laughed, clapping his hands as if it were the funniest shit he had ever heard.

“There are many social norms that you are supposed to reciprocate. I assumed winking was one of them. I see now that I was incorrect.” He turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“To apologize for inadvertently seducing her.”

“No, man. You don’t want to do that,” Dean protested.

“But she will be expecting my call; it would be rude to simply ignore her without explaining why.”

“Dean’s right, Cas. That’s a discussion best left unhad.”

The sound of chimes rang, and Castiel looked at his phone, a look of horror crossing his face.

Dean’s smile grew. “Don’t tell me you gave her your number too.”

“I panicked.” Castiel glared at the phone.

“Don’t answer it,” Sam advised.

Good naturedness winning out over solid advice, Castiel picked up the phone. “Hey, uh, Michelle…” He shot a glare to the snickering brothers before walking out of the room.

Sam examined his gift, still chuckling a little. “You know, this thing is pretty nice, but I think the real present is Cas’ new love life. Think we should help him?”

“What do you want me to do, Sam? Pretend to be his jealous ex or something?” Sam’s eyes widened. “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“This,” said Sam with relish, “is the best Death Day ever.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks as always to the wonderful MoonClaimed for beta-ing this!


End file.
